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weasleyreading 's review for:
A Wreck, You Make Me
by Saffron A. Kent
TEN STARS ACROSS THE BOARD
Saffron, I know I already told you, but this is a MASTERPIECE. The longing, stalking, yearning, toxicity, banter, red flags, venom...filthy, pure, and filthy love between Shepard and Juniper. This book had everything I needed, and I will reread it religiously because it's THAT good.
The banter, the back and forth, the insults, while both of them are so down bad for each other, is embarrassing. I was high on life reading the relationship change from stalker to stalked to obsessed to lovers, enemies, friends-but-don't-say-friends-or-Shepard-will-get-mad, partners, lovers...they covered every relationship in the spectrum and I loved every aspect of it.
The change and growth in the characters was so real and progressive, the realizations about themselves, the changes for each other, the love languages, the self-discoveries about what they like and are willing to try for the other. How Shepard saw her and immediately couldn't get her out of his mind, time after time, his feelings were screaming at him, but his habit of shoving them down made everything hard for him to see, even when painfully obvious. And Juniper, how alone and independent she was, but with Shepard, he made her realize she could share the load, that he wanted to carry it for her so that she was free...to give him all her attention, but still free.
All I can say is that I will go back to read about all the couples mentioned in this book, because having read Saffron before, and this one right here, I just know I need to read ALL her books like yesterday...and so should all of you!
Thank you, thank you, thank you, LoveNotes and Saffron for this e-arc. I still can't believe I got to read this early!
Quotes - There are a lot, yes, but mind you, this is a 530-page book with INCREDIBLE moments, so if you don't want minor spoilers/scene spoilers, DO NOT READ:
He's eating me with his touch, his fingers. They squeeze my flesh, knead it, pinch it.
I like his brutal fingers and bullying touch. I like it so much that I have widened my legs.
So if Joe's more interested in looking at your fucking dress than staring at your face, and mapping out your freckles to see what constellations they're hiding then yeah, he's a moron on top of being a fuckface."
I had a girlfriend I was in love with and like a fucking jackass, I couldn't stop thinking about my little sister's best friend and her strawberry hair.
She needs a break. She needs someone to take care of her. And it's going to be me.
She's been my biggest distraction since the moment I saw her a year ago.
And those eyes, God. They're dark and shiny. They're saying something to me.
Just one word: mine.
"Just so you know, you're a toxic snake."
"Yeah, but when I bite it hurts so fucking good you can't help but want more."
"In fact, I think I just found my favorite pastime. Making you dance for me."
And if I got a hit of your taste, you'd be walking around with my teeth marks on your neck 24/ 7.
"You wanna wear a necklace made of my teeth marks, baby?"
"You wanna follow me around, baby, you go for it. I'll follow you back. Hell, I'll even get matching leashes for each other.
"No more sexy schoolgirl outfits."
>"I...What?"
"Or any outfit," he clarifies,"short enough to get a peek of those white lacy panties every time you walk. Or flimsy enough that I can take it apart with my teeth."
>"You... have a w-weird fascination with your t-teeth." He chuckles, or more like blows out a puff of air.
"I'm a toxic snake, remember? I bite back."
That his hand on me looks like it belongs.
His rough, chafed fingers belong on my soft, unblemished skin.
"Good. Because I thought I'd go crazy if I didn't get to touch you again."
I don't think it's funny that ever since I saw you at that goddamn strip club, prancing around in your frilly little skirts and your fuck-me heels, looking like a piece of candy that every man in that joint wants to eat, I can't stop wanting to beat the shit out of the first person I see.
"But you wanna know the least funny thing? It's that six hours and forty-three minutes ago, give or take a few minutes, I had you in my lap. I had you exactly where I wanted you, exactly where I've been thinking about putting you, in the goddamn cage of my arms so you can't run from me, but instead of doing something about it, I let you go. Instead of playing with you like I wanted to, all I did was play with your panties like a fumbling fucking teenager in the back seat of his first car.
Because all I did was touch you a little bit, grazed your wet panties a few times.
Maybe circled your clit once, and you lit up for me like I'd been petting you for hours. Like I'd been pampering that pussy, paying special attention to it for days on end and you couldn't take it anymore.
“You were fully primed and so you had no choice but to gush for me. Drip on my fingers like you really were my ripe little strawberry, just waiting for me to toy with you. So now I'm stuck, aren't I? I'm goddamn motherfucking stuck trying to chase after that little taste you gave me, binging on strawberries all night, hoping that I'll find one that tastes exactly like your pussy.”
"I d-don't taste like strawberries."
>"What?"
"If anything, I taste a little musky and tart and—"
>"Are you really fucking describing to me what you taste like in this goddamn motherfucking café with all these people around us?" He leans closer. "Because if so, then everyone here is going to get a hell of a show along with their morning coffee."
"I hated that I wanted to fucking count the freckles on your face instead of paying attention to my girlfriend. I hated that everything about you, your smile, your laughter, your voice, the little purple things you always seemed to have on, the way you watched me not-so-secretly, took up all the space in my head instead of the girl I should've been thinking about. So yeah, you are annoying because you've been my goddamn distraction since the moment I saw you when you shouldn't have been."
He pulls me toward him and makes me sit in his lap. He arranges me how he wants to, mostly with my legs spread and over his so he can control my movements, and makes me dance for him with his thorny hands on my rosy body, with his filthy words in my ears.
"It's time to turn my Little Strawberry into my Little Whore."
And as if that wasn't enough of a shock to my system, him exposing my throbbing and wet core, he proceeds to run his finger up and down between my lips. As if he's trying to bathe his fingers in my juices. Trying to scoop it out.
Trying to pet my pussy. Before he smacks it.
"Because what a waste of a fucking rose, baby, don't you think? What a waste of a tight fucking pussy if I don't get to wreck it and make it mine."
"I fucking love the way you say my name,"
"It sounds needy. Desperate. So fucking good. So fucking horny. It sounds like you need me to breathe life into you. It sounds like you'll die without me. Without my touch."
"You agree to be mine and I'll say your name day and night. I'll moan it in your ears when I'm pounding into your hole. I'll spell it out with my tongue when I'm licking this cunt. I'll fucking tattoo your name on my skin. All you have to do is say yes."
"Say yes to letting me fuck your juicy little pussy that loves it when I choke your neck a little too much, with my dick, later," he explains. "And I won't stick my finger in it now."
"You being a cock tease out there,"
"Making me lose my fucking head like you don't love doing that to me, and then dancing in my lap like you wouldn't dance better with my dick in your hole every single night."
"And you know why that is, don't you?
It's because she knows. That pretty, little, tight as fucking fuck kitty knows she belongs to me. She knows she's mine. Every single strawberry-tasting inch of you is fucking mine."
I'll be inside that pussy, fucking it, banging it, tearing it the fuck up before the week ends and you know it.
He breaks my heart, but he somehow makes it beat harder and faster than anything else in this world. It's because I'm his.
Because turns out, ever since I climbed through her window, I can't stop doing it. I can't rest until I've made sure she's safe in her bed. And I can't go to sleep anywhere else other than her armchair.
I fucking hope to all that's holy that the next time she bites, she makes me bleed.
So I can lick my blood off her lips like she just licked that frosting.
In fact, I will be licking that too. I will be licking all sorts of things off her body now. She needs something licked off her skin, I'll be the man for the job.
Maybe I'll buy a pack of cupcakes to eat off her skin in celebration. I'm definitely eating strawberries off her pussy. Maybe I can also slather her in pancake syrup and slurp it off her body. Actually, I should start a list of all the depraved things I want to do to her. It's shocking I haven't done so before.
"Just know that I'm here. Always. Doesn't make up for everything or maybe anything really, but you are the other half of my soul, and your other half may be shitty but mine is someone I'm proud of."
"Everything about you is more than pretty. Everything about you is fucking beautiful and luminous and alive and full of color. But that's not the point. Anyone can be those things. What you are is something else."
>"What am I?"
"Unforgettable."
"Fuck around some more and find out exactly what we do to people who threaten our own."
"She's ours. And we don't like when people interfere in our family business. So leave. Now."
I want to be her first. Her first kiss.
Her first touch. First to teach her things, show how it is between two people, as obsessed as we are with each other.
When I'm with her, I can breathe. I can breathe easy. Which is so strange because I didn't even know my breaths were difficult.
She is addictive. And I've had a taste.
Which means I'll do anything to have that taste again. I'll destroy everything in my path, go behind everyone's back. I'll betray anyone. I'll lie, cheat, steal, do any fucking thing to have her again.
Who gets mad because they weren't the first? And not just about anything but about finding someone first.
Me: Did you steal my new perfume?
My Not-So Toxic Stepbrother: Well, I thought friends share things.
My Not-So Toxic Stepbrother: If you don't want any secrets, that's fine. But I don't mind keeping secrets for you. I don't mind cheating, stealing, lying or sneaking into your room when you're not there just so I get to be close to you.
I wanna make you come on my fingers. And then I wanna make you ride my thigh and hump my stomach. And if I'm doing all of that, I'm also going to make you sit on my face and ride my tongue. I'm going to make that pussy come and come and fucking come until I'm covered in you.
Because none of that matters. Nothing matters but you. I can't stay away from you. It's too painful.
When you kiss someone that you've wanted to kiss for ages, you never stop. You can't stop, because you lose all control. Every bit of it.
At this, I come. I have to. The thought of him using my body to give himself relief turns me on so much that I can't help but climax, arching my spine and throwing my head back, moaning out his name.
"You know I have dreamed about this, don't you?" he asks, his tone hypnotic.
>"Yes."
"I have. A million times," he goes on. "I've dreamed about sliding into you.
Stretching you out. Stretching out your tight, tight, so fucking tight pussy."
Because the truth is I'm not letting her go. The truth is she's here to stay. Stay in my house. In my family. In my life.
I want him to lose that little grip on his sanity before he gets to me. I want him to teach me a lesson for locking him out, ruin me for saying I was done with him when I'm not. And I never will be.
"I sat in it. I took off the boot I made you ride, the one you came on, and..." Another pause. "And licked it."
"I licked it. I licked your cum off my boot, because..."
"It's bad manners, see. It's bad manners to let it go to waste when you made it for me. When you gave it to me. As a gift."
And you know I've been hungry for a long time, yeah?" I blink, my belly feeling heavy with arousal. "A long fucking time," he almost groans, his nostrils flaring. "So hungry for you, baby. So fucking hungry for your pussy.
"So. Fucking. Hungry for any scrap you'll throw at me."
"I call everyone who wants to sniff under your skirt a dog, don't I? But the truth is it's me. I'm the dog. An animal. Who wants to sniff under your skirt, lick your skin, bite your body. I'm the one who wants to rut inside you and leave my mark everywhere. Even on the inside."
"I have this thing," he says, with clenched teeth, "inside of me. This crazy fucking thing that won't let me stay away from you. It makes me obsessed with you. It makes me need you in a way I've never needed anyone.
"But I need it. I need to eat your pussy, lick it, fuck it, French kiss it while I kneel on broken glass and bleed for it."
And he's watching himself do it. He's watching his fingers play with my pussy from only inches away. And he likes it so much that his cheeks have become all flushed.
"I'm your... p-princess?" He looks up then.
"Yeah, because I guess that's what you call the girl you're a slave for."
"I'm more yours than I am mine. That you own me."
"Because you're the only girl I'll ever bleed for, baby," he whispers against my mouth. "You're the only girl I'll ever kneel on broken glass for. Or lick a leather boot for. You're the only girl I'll ever be hungry like a fucking dog for."
And he's mine in a way that I know what his collarbone tastes like, or that groove in his throat.
"Why are you...drawing on my skin?"
>"I'm tracing your freckles."
Why did I think that he was going to be all sweet like he was last night? I mean, he made me ride his boot and told me he liked it. He broke his own window to get to me and then kneeled on broken glass to eat my pussy.
"We don't want our sister to know, baby, the things we're doing up here, the things I'm doing to you with my dick and the things you're letting me do to your pussy, are the things no brother or sister should ever do to each other. Doesn't matter if you add 'step' in front of it. But it sure as fuck makes my stepsister's pussy wetter and makes her come harder, thinking about it."
You need to be more worried about the kind of man you've let into your bed, in between your thighs, in your fucking cunt. And what lengths he'll go to, to keep fucking that cunt. To keep you.
Because finally, fucking finally, I've got you. I've caught you in my arms, in my clutches, and you're not going anywhere.
I won't let you. I won't let anyone else have you.
While his eyes say he doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to be so far away from me. His eyes tell me he needs me close. He needs to smell me, touch me, kiss me, fuck me. He wants to hold me and instead of going to sleep alone in his bed, he wants to go to sleep with me.
Wearing his jersey that he put on me last night before he taught me how to ride his dick, I kneel down in front of him and his nostrils flare.
I love him. I love the kind of a wreck he makes me. I'd tell him, let me make you a wreck too.
Because for some reason, being tied to him feels like freedom and happiness, safety, and I don't need any reminders of that right now.
"So I could just look at you. And touch you and feel you. Talk to you even though I know nothing about talking."
"We had a family. All of us. And we're happy. We have everything he never did and he never will."
Saffron, I know I already told you, but this is a MASTERPIECE. The longing, stalking, yearning, toxicity, banter, red flags, venom...filthy, pure, and filthy love between Shepard and Juniper. This book had everything I needed, and I will reread it religiously because it's THAT good.
The banter, the back and forth, the insults, while both of them are so down bad for each other, is embarrassing. I was high on life reading the relationship change from stalker to stalked to obsessed to lovers, enemies, friends-but-don't-say-friends-or-Shepard-will-get-mad, partners, lovers...they covered every relationship in the spectrum and I loved every aspect of it.
The change and growth in the characters was so real and progressive, the realizations about themselves, the changes for each other, the love languages, the self-discoveries about what they like and are willing to try for the other. How Shepard saw her and immediately couldn't get her out of his mind, time after time, his feelings were screaming at him, but his habit of shoving them down made everything hard for him to see, even when painfully obvious. And Juniper, how alone and independent she was, but with Shepard, he made her realize she could share the load, that he wanted to carry it for her so that she was free...to give him all her attention, but still free.
All I can say is that I will go back to read about all the couples mentioned in this book, because having read Saffron before, and this one right here, I just know I need to read ALL her books like yesterday...and so should all of you!
Thank you, thank you, thank you, LoveNotes and Saffron for this e-arc. I still can't believe I got to read this early!
Quotes - There are a lot, yes, but mind you, this is a 530-page book with INCREDIBLE moments, so if you don't want minor spoilers/scene spoilers, DO NOT READ:
He's eating me with his touch, his fingers. They squeeze my flesh, knead it, pinch it.
I like his brutal fingers and bullying touch. I like it so much that I have widened my legs.
So if Joe's more interested in looking at your fucking dress than staring at your face, and mapping out your freckles to see what constellations they're hiding then yeah, he's a moron on top of being a fuckface."
I had a girlfriend I was in love with and like a fucking jackass, I couldn't stop thinking about my little sister's best friend and her strawberry hair.
She needs a break. She needs someone to take care of her. And it's going to be me.
She's been my biggest distraction since the moment I saw her a year ago.
And those eyes, God. They're dark and shiny. They're saying something to me.
Just one word: mine.
"Just so you know, you're a toxic snake."
"Yeah, but when I bite it hurts so fucking good you can't help but want more."
"In fact, I think I just found my favorite pastime. Making you dance for me."
And if I got a hit of your taste, you'd be walking around with my teeth marks on your neck 24/ 7.
"You wanna wear a necklace made of my teeth marks, baby?"
"You wanna follow me around, baby, you go for it. I'll follow you back. Hell, I'll even get matching leashes for each other.
"No more sexy schoolgirl outfits."
>"I...What?"
"Or any outfit," he clarifies,"short enough to get a peek of those white lacy panties every time you walk. Or flimsy enough that I can take it apart with my teeth."
>"You... have a w-weird fascination with your t-teeth." He chuckles, or more like blows out a puff of air.
"I'm a toxic snake, remember? I bite back."
That his hand on me looks like it belongs.
His rough, chafed fingers belong on my soft, unblemished skin.
"Good. Because I thought I'd go crazy if I didn't get to touch you again."
I don't think it's funny that ever since I saw you at that goddamn strip club, prancing around in your frilly little skirts and your fuck-me heels, looking like a piece of candy that every man in that joint wants to eat, I can't stop wanting to beat the shit out of the first person I see.
"But you wanna know the least funny thing? It's that six hours and forty-three minutes ago, give or take a few minutes, I had you in my lap. I had you exactly where I wanted you, exactly where I've been thinking about putting you, in the goddamn cage of my arms so you can't run from me, but instead of doing something about it, I let you go. Instead of playing with you like I wanted to, all I did was play with your panties like a fumbling fucking teenager in the back seat of his first car.
Because all I did was touch you a little bit, grazed your wet panties a few times.
Maybe circled your clit once, and you lit up for me like I'd been petting you for hours. Like I'd been pampering that pussy, paying special attention to it for days on end and you couldn't take it anymore.
“You were fully primed and so you had no choice but to gush for me. Drip on my fingers like you really were my ripe little strawberry, just waiting for me to toy with you. So now I'm stuck, aren't I? I'm goddamn motherfucking stuck trying to chase after that little taste you gave me, binging on strawberries all night, hoping that I'll find one that tastes exactly like your pussy.”
"I d-don't taste like strawberries."
>"What?"
"If anything, I taste a little musky and tart and—"
>"Are you really fucking describing to me what you taste like in this goddamn motherfucking café with all these people around us?" He leans closer. "Because if so, then everyone here is going to get a hell of a show along with their morning coffee."
"I hated that I wanted to fucking count the freckles on your face instead of paying attention to my girlfriend. I hated that everything about you, your smile, your laughter, your voice, the little purple things you always seemed to have on, the way you watched me not-so-secretly, took up all the space in my head instead of the girl I should've been thinking about. So yeah, you are annoying because you've been my goddamn distraction since the moment I saw you when you shouldn't have been."
He pulls me toward him and makes me sit in his lap. He arranges me how he wants to, mostly with my legs spread and over his so he can control my movements, and makes me dance for him with his thorny hands on my rosy body, with his filthy words in my ears.
"It's time to turn my Little Strawberry into my Little Whore."
And as if that wasn't enough of a shock to my system, him exposing my throbbing and wet core, he proceeds to run his finger up and down between my lips. As if he's trying to bathe his fingers in my juices. Trying to scoop it out.
Trying to pet my pussy. Before he smacks it.
"Because what a waste of a fucking rose, baby, don't you think? What a waste of a tight fucking pussy if I don't get to wreck it and make it mine."
"I fucking love the way you say my name,"
"It sounds needy. Desperate. So fucking good. So fucking horny. It sounds like you need me to breathe life into you. It sounds like you'll die without me. Without my touch."
"You agree to be mine and I'll say your name day and night. I'll moan it in your ears when I'm pounding into your hole. I'll spell it out with my tongue when I'm licking this cunt. I'll fucking tattoo your name on my skin. All you have to do is say yes."
"Say yes to letting me fuck your juicy little pussy that loves it when I choke your neck a little too much, with my dick, later," he explains. "And I won't stick my finger in it now."
"You being a cock tease out there,"
"Making me lose my fucking head like you don't love doing that to me, and then dancing in my lap like you wouldn't dance better with my dick in your hole every single night."
"And you know why that is, don't you?
It's because she knows. That pretty, little, tight as fucking fuck kitty knows she belongs to me. She knows she's mine. Every single strawberry-tasting inch of you is fucking mine."
I'll be inside that pussy, fucking it, banging it, tearing it the fuck up before the week ends and you know it.
He breaks my heart, but he somehow makes it beat harder and faster than anything else in this world. It's because I'm his.
Because turns out, ever since I climbed through her window, I can't stop doing it. I can't rest until I've made sure she's safe in her bed. And I can't go to sleep anywhere else other than her armchair.
I fucking hope to all that's holy that the next time she bites, she makes me bleed.
So I can lick my blood off her lips like she just licked that frosting.
In fact, I will be licking that too. I will be licking all sorts of things off her body now. She needs something licked off her skin, I'll be the man for the job.
Maybe I'll buy a pack of cupcakes to eat off her skin in celebration. I'm definitely eating strawberries off her pussy. Maybe I can also slather her in pancake syrup and slurp it off her body. Actually, I should start a list of all the depraved things I want to do to her. It's shocking I haven't done so before.
"Just know that I'm here. Always. Doesn't make up for everything or maybe anything really, but you are the other half of my soul, and your other half may be shitty but mine is someone I'm proud of."
"Everything about you is more than pretty. Everything about you is fucking beautiful and luminous and alive and full of color. But that's not the point. Anyone can be those things. What you are is something else."
>"What am I?"
"Unforgettable."
"Fuck around some more and find out exactly what we do to people who threaten our own."
"She's ours. And we don't like when people interfere in our family business. So leave. Now."
I want to be her first. Her first kiss.
Her first touch. First to teach her things, show how it is between two people, as obsessed as we are with each other.
When I'm with her, I can breathe. I can breathe easy. Which is so strange because I didn't even know my breaths were difficult.
She is addictive. And I've had a taste.
Which means I'll do anything to have that taste again. I'll destroy everything in my path, go behind everyone's back. I'll betray anyone. I'll lie, cheat, steal, do any fucking thing to have her again.
Who gets mad because they weren't the first? And not just about anything but about finding someone first.
Me: Did you steal my new perfume?
My Not-So Toxic Stepbrother: Well, I thought friends share things.
My Not-So Toxic Stepbrother: If you don't want any secrets, that's fine. But I don't mind keeping secrets for you. I don't mind cheating, stealing, lying or sneaking into your room when you're not there just so I get to be close to you.
I wanna make you come on my fingers. And then I wanna make you ride my thigh and hump my stomach. And if I'm doing all of that, I'm also going to make you sit on my face and ride my tongue. I'm going to make that pussy come and come and fucking come until I'm covered in you.
Because none of that matters. Nothing matters but you. I can't stay away from you. It's too painful.
When you kiss someone that you've wanted to kiss for ages, you never stop. You can't stop, because you lose all control. Every bit of it.
At this, I come. I have to. The thought of him using my body to give himself relief turns me on so much that I can't help but climax, arching my spine and throwing my head back, moaning out his name.
"You know I have dreamed about this, don't you?" he asks, his tone hypnotic.
>"Yes."
"I have. A million times," he goes on. "I've dreamed about sliding into you.
Stretching you out. Stretching out your tight, tight, so fucking tight pussy."
Because the truth is I'm not letting her go. The truth is she's here to stay. Stay in my house. In my family. In my life.
I want him to lose that little grip on his sanity before he gets to me. I want him to teach me a lesson for locking him out, ruin me for saying I was done with him when I'm not. And I never will be.
"I sat in it. I took off the boot I made you ride, the one you came on, and..." Another pause. "And licked it."
"I licked it. I licked your cum off my boot, because..."
"It's bad manners, see. It's bad manners to let it go to waste when you made it for me. When you gave it to me. As a gift."
And you know I've been hungry for a long time, yeah?" I blink, my belly feeling heavy with arousal. "A long fucking time," he almost groans, his nostrils flaring. "So hungry for you, baby. So fucking hungry for your pussy.
"So. Fucking. Hungry for any scrap you'll throw at me."
"I call everyone who wants to sniff under your skirt a dog, don't I? But the truth is it's me. I'm the dog. An animal. Who wants to sniff under your skirt, lick your skin, bite your body. I'm the one who wants to rut inside you and leave my mark everywhere. Even on the inside."
"I have this thing," he says, with clenched teeth, "inside of me. This crazy fucking thing that won't let me stay away from you. It makes me obsessed with you. It makes me need you in a way I've never needed anyone.
"But I need it. I need to eat your pussy, lick it, fuck it, French kiss it while I kneel on broken glass and bleed for it."
And he's watching himself do it. He's watching his fingers play with my pussy from only inches away. And he likes it so much that his cheeks have become all flushed.
"I'm your... p-princess?" He looks up then.
"Yeah, because I guess that's what you call the girl you're a slave for."
"I'm more yours than I am mine. That you own me."
"Because you're the only girl I'll ever bleed for, baby," he whispers against my mouth. "You're the only girl I'll ever kneel on broken glass for. Or lick a leather boot for. You're the only girl I'll ever be hungry like a fucking dog for."
And he's mine in a way that I know what his collarbone tastes like, or that groove in his throat.
"Why are you...drawing on my skin?"
>"I'm tracing your freckles."
Why did I think that he was going to be all sweet like he was last night? I mean, he made me ride his boot and told me he liked it. He broke his own window to get to me and then kneeled on broken glass to eat my pussy.
"We don't want our sister to know, baby, the things we're doing up here, the things I'm doing to you with my dick and the things you're letting me do to your pussy, are the things no brother or sister should ever do to each other. Doesn't matter if you add 'step' in front of it. But it sure as fuck makes my stepsister's pussy wetter and makes her come harder, thinking about it."
You need to be more worried about the kind of man you've let into your bed, in between your thighs, in your fucking cunt. And what lengths he'll go to, to keep fucking that cunt. To keep you.
Because finally, fucking finally, I've got you. I've caught you in my arms, in my clutches, and you're not going anywhere.
I won't let you. I won't let anyone else have you.
While his eyes say he doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to be so far away from me. His eyes tell me he needs me close. He needs to smell me, touch me, kiss me, fuck me. He wants to hold me and instead of going to sleep alone in his bed, he wants to go to sleep with me.
Wearing his jersey that he put on me last night before he taught me how to ride his dick, I kneel down in front of him and his nostrils flare.
I love him. I love the kind of a wreck he makes me. I'd tell him, let me make you a wreck too.
Because for some reason, being tied to him feels like freedom and happiness, safety, and I don't need any reminders of that right now.
"So I could just look at you. And touch you and feel you. Talk to you even though I know nothing about talking."
"We had a family. All of us. And we're happy. We have everything he never did and he never will."